somewhere a clock is ticking
by little toy soldiers
Summary: He looked up at her, taking in her dark brown eyes. "I just feel like I'm drowning."/wrencentric.


**a/n: **these two are just so edigfszxihughdu. They don't even really have a story anymore but I don't really care because just they way he looks at her reminds me of those four beautiful episodes in the first season of PLL *shaking and crying forever* PLEASE GIVE ME MY BABES BACK, WRITERS.

So I really didn't want to write anything angsty for these two (they're just too fun for that) but sadly that's what I ended up writing instead. Somehow it turned into a Wren-centric oneshot that shows him in a new light (I don't think I did this guy any justice, sadly). It's rushed and I think I accidently switched tenses _a lot_ but whatever. Review, yeah?

I was so close to writing a fic about Wren turning out to be 'A', you have no idea. (that doesn't mean I'm still not going to…)

**somewhere a clock is ticking.**

…

"She's gone," A deep voice of one of the few doctors in the room says softly. Wren doesn't bother to look up to see who it was; he just kept his eyes focused on the monitor that was beeping.

"Wh-what now?" Wren feels himself ask without looking up. He knows that Dr. Sawyer, a man in his sixties who has been in this field for almost forty years, was probably looking at him sympathetically. He didn't want to look in the eyes of man who has most likely grown accustom to watching people pass away and seeing their loved ones mourn and cry. He didn't want to see the man silently question how Wren could have gotten into this so young.

"Well we do need to inform the family." Dr. Sawyer sighed and looked down at his clipboard. He looked exhausted, retirement was probably right around the corner for him. "They're out in waiting room." He gave Wren one more look before heading out the door.

While the other doctors and nurses did what they were trained to for a death, Wren sat down in a chair at the side of the room, silently mourning the young woman who had just died from a recent car crash. He felt his heart go out to the family who were being informed of their loss. Was this what he signed up for? Of course he knew that with being a doctor came hurt but he didn't know it would be that painful.

He wants out.

...

Wren's entire childhood was spent dreaming about his future. His father called him crazy, said dreaming was for the more rich and fortunate. For those who were born to get everything they wanted. His mother thought it was cute. She would pat him on the head and say, "Yes, Wren. One day you will be a doctor, I'm sure of it." But her expression would defy her words, telling him he was delusional and one day he would grow up and realize the world wasn't for dreaming and people like him never got to dream because reality would set in and tell him true happiness doesn't exist. It never has.

But Wren never cared that his mother and his father didn't believe he could be happy and succesful, he knew he could and that was all that mattered for him.

Wren's ideal form of happiness was always growing up to be a doctor and marrying the woman of his dreams _(smart, good sense of humor, with beautiful blond hair. So blonde it was almost white.) _So while the rest of the other boys his age spent their time trading cards and watching cartoons, Wren would take every free chance he got researching about bursa sacs and tumors and anything that wasn't a 12 year old boys natural interest.

…

As he walks out the Rosewood Hospital at the end of the day, Wren can't help but replay the day in his mind over and over again.

_What has he gotten himself into?_

"It does get easier you know." Wren didn't have to turn around to know Dr. Sawyer was right behind him, lighting a cigarette. "I've been in this career for forty years and I've pretty much seen it all. People die, sometimes people survive." He took a step closer, putting his hand on Wren's shoulder. "I've even seen some miracles happen." Wren looked up at him, taking in his graying hair and wrinkles that formed under his eyes. "It's the support you get from your loved ones that gets you through it, Wren. Have a nice night." Wren watched Dr. Sawyer walk to his car before walking to his own.

_It's the support you get from your loved ones that gets you through it._

He wasn't even sure those existed for him.

…

Somehow an hour later Wren had ended up at Hastings Residence. Once he had gotten into his car he started to drive in circles, looking at Rosewood restaurants and shops that he used to go to when he was still engaged to Melissa. Then, of course, he ended up stopping in front of the big house that he was all too familiar with.

He wasn't all that surprised to find Spencer standing at the door with a questioning face after he knocked. "Wren…"

He held up a hand. "I'm not exactly sure why I'm here either."

Spencer's eyebrows knitted together but she opened the door a little wider anyway, letting him in. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?"

Wren couldn't help but smirk at that memory. "No, I'm fine," He responded, taking a glance around the Hastings kitchen.

Spencer walked over to the counter, facing him. She nervously began to grip the edge of it. "So, uh, do you need Melissa?"

Wren's eyes widened from shock. "Well…no. I just needed you, I guess." (He couldn't help but notice the blush that crept on her cheeks after he said that.)

"Wh-what for?"

Wren shrugged and smiled slightly. "Isn't that the question of the night?" He walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. "I kind of just…ended up here."

Spencer leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. "So what?" She asked. "You just closed your eyes, said there's no place like home, and in a blink appeared in front of my house?"

Ah, there was the good Spencer humor he had come to love all those months ago.

He laughed a quiet laugh and looked away. When he had left the hospital that night he had promised himself he wouldn't talk about that day at all. It wasn't a memory he wasn't going to dwell. But somehow he just felt himself wanting to tell Spencer, tell her everything. He wanted to seek comfort from her and only her that was why he drove to her house. He knew that then. "I just…" He started but couldn't find himself to finish it.

"You just…" Spencer pressed, stepping closer to him.

He looked up at her, taking in her dark brown eyes. "I just feel like I'm drowning."

Spencer's eyebrows shot up. "Drowning how?"

Wren looked away again. "Someone at the Rosewood Hospital died today." He bit his lip. "And I was there to watch."

He could tell Spencer was trying to mask her surprise but her eyebrows were still raised in shock. "Oh my god."

Wren nodded. "Yeah."

She took another step toward him (by that point she was only a foot away from him and he took much notice to that). "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather not replay it." She nodded in understanding.

"Well if it helps for anything, sometimes I feel like I'm drowning to." She looked surprise to admit that.

Wren looked up at her face. "You don't seem like someone who could drown. You're too strong for that."

Spencer smiled slightly and Wren smiled back. "You should try telling yourself that."

"Yeah, well…" He stopped when he noticed that Spencer was _right _front of him. So close that their legs were touching.

Spencer seemed to suddenly notice that too because she took a few steps back and looked around the room nervously. "Um I just remembered I have this date thing with my boyfriend, Toby," She babbled. "So it's probably best if you…" She gestured to the door.

Wren laughed but walked to the door anyway. "Has anyone told you you're cute when you're nervous?" He asked her.

Her mouth dropped slightly. "Uh…"

Wren smirked touched her hand slightly. "I'll see you later, Spencer."

…

Tomorrow he would have to face the hospital. He didn't know what would happen, what he would see or hear but at that moment Wren really didn't worry about it. The pain from earlier in the day was still there but it was mixed with a feeling of something else. Something he hadn't truly felt in months.

Happiness.

…


End file.
